


Father, I die tonight

by Icelandic_Flutterby



Series: Rad Bab RAB [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Suicide, suicide note
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:21:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9508784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icelandic_Flutterby/pseuds/Icelandic_Flutterby
Summary: R.A.B. writes a suicide note.





	

_Father_ , he wrote, lip trembling. _Father, I am about to do something danger-_.  
  
He stopped. Bit his lip. No. No no no. He scrapped the parchment. Waving his wand distractedly, he threw it into the bin. He tried again, _Father, I found out something. Something about-_ no. He scrapped this too. Threw it in the bin, raised his quill to start anew, but leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.  
How could he do this? He grimaced with pain. His chest felt heavy, and his breathing hard. How to write the words, what to write. He did not know.  
He had to do this. This, if nothing else.  
This, for all else was too late.  
He could not reach out to his brother, that bridge had burned before he even could comprehend it had. He still did not quite know why, did not know if why mattered. No, he knew now. It did not. Not anymore.  
Not for him.  
  
His mother, he could not tell.  
There were various reasons, but the main one was that he felt conflicted about her. She was his mother, but he despised her. Yet, despite that, he loved her? Maybe. He could no longer tell. Hasn’t been able to for a while. He doesn’t want her to die.  
That was the best he knew what he felt for her.  
  
His grandparents, either set, unable to help, perhaps unwilling. He knew not. Could not understand. His uncles, aunts, cousins. Hateful, cautious, out of reach.  
  
His father, alone, sick, dying. He had to know. Had to learn. Regulus would tell him, him alone.  
There was no one else.  
  
He sat back up straight. Squared his shoulders. Raised his quill,  
And slumped again. He still did not know what to write. He resisted angry tears. “Father,” he mouthed to himself, “I die tonight.”  
He straightened again. “Father, I die tonight.” He whispered softly, but full of certainty. He raised his quill once more, but a sob interrupts his process, tears sting his eyes. He sniffles.  
  
_Father,_ he writes, _I die tonight._  
He wrote a line more, before leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, tears flowing down his cheeks. He sniffled, cracked open an eye, smiled painfully, sadly at the note, put it in an envelope, styled it with his father’s name. Rose from the chair, and put the envelope on the pillow on his bed.  
He circled once around the room, dully taking it in, one last time, before quietly exiting, and making his way downstairs. In the hallway leading to the front door, he quietly calls for his house-elf, who appears quietly, as ordered.  
  
Just outside the door, he speaks softly.  
“I left a letter for father on my bed. Make sure he sees it when you return.” The house-elf nodded his understanding, and led his master away.  
__  
He’d ordered his house-elf to return home. That was the one thing that relieved him immensely. He did not know if the house-elf would have made it otherwise.  
He had one last thought before darkness took over completely, hands clawing at his hair, clothes, throat, limbs.  
I’ve wanted this for so long.  
  
__  
The wretched house-elf had interrupted her alone-time. With a snarl, she ordered the house-elf to leave her be.  
  
She would not notice until later, but the house-elf had not trembled at her words, nor her anger, but because the name of her son faded from the family tapestry, and gained a death-day.  
  
__  
“A letter for you, my master.” The tired, fifty year old man, opened his eyes, and slowly turned his head towards the house-elf. He sighed, turned his head back, and slowly, raised a trembling hand to grab the letter.  
He grimaced when he realised it was unopened, and snapped at the house-elf to open it for him, quickly. It was less than a second away from his hand, but when he held it again, it was indeed open.  
His eyes drooping, he took a deep breath, grimaced, gathered as much strength as he could, raised the note up so as to see it better, and read:  
  
_Father, I die tonight. I’m sorry. I love you._  
R.A.B.  
  
Orion stared at the letter, incomprehension clear on his face. His mouth, frowning, opened slowly, and he tried to form a word, changed his mind, and swallowed in pain. His chest heaved, he hiccoughed. He swallowed, tried to breath, as grief swallowed him whole, he sobbed.


End file.
